


just like that, everything rearranges

by buddiebuddie



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: A little bit of plot but a whole lot of sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Protective Carlos Reyes, Smut, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24767065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buddiebuddie/pseuds/buddiebuddie
Summary: "Even when they’re dying to get their hands on each other, Carlos is always thinking of TK, always doing right by him, making sure he’s taken care of. The realization makes TK’s chest squeeze, and he leans up and wraps a hand around Carlos’s neck, tugging him down so their lips can meet in a kiss. “I really fucking love you,” he says against Carlos’s lips."or,Carlos is still trying to get used to TK's penchant for taking risks, especially when burning buildings are involved.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 24
Kudos: 265





	just like that, everything rearranges

“Alright guys, that’s it. We’ve got black smoke.” Captain Strand’s voice comes over the radio, still audible over the crackle of the flames licking at their heels. “Evacuate.” 

Marjan, Paul, and Mateo come through the smoke-clouded entry to the apartment building one after another. Owen stands completely still, gripping his radio as he stares at the doors, willing TK and Judd to come through any second. 

When they don’t, he keys his radio and tries to keep the uneasiness off his voice. “126, call in.”

He gives them a beat, then tries again. “Judd? TK?” When there’s no answer, his breath catches in his throat. “Firefighters Ryder and Strand, report.” 

“We’re here. On the second floor,” Judd’s voice comes through a moment later, halfway between a whisper and a hiss, already muffled by the sound of the fire. “Cap, we’ve got a situation in here.”

He glances over to TK, whose nose can’t be more than five inches from the barrel of a glock. “Let’s talk about it, man,” TK’s voice is calm, even. “I’m here to help. But I can’t help you in here, not when the walls are about to come down. This place is about to flashover. We’ve gotta get outside.” 

The man has his back to the door and hasn’t noticed Judd in the hallway, peering into the room before dipping his head back out of view long enough to get back on his radio. 

Owen’s eyebrows furrow. He can barely make out what Judd’s saying, between his hushed voice and the roar of the fire, not to mention all the commotion of everything happening on the lawn around them. He hushes the people around him before keying his radio once more. “Say it again Judd?” 

“We need PD,” Judd repeats. 

“Carlos!” Owen calls, waving the younger man over from where he was rolling out police tape to establish a perimeter. 

“We’ve got an armed civilian up here,” Judd relays. Carlos feels his blood run cold at that, thick and unmoving beneath his skin as he looks around and realizes TK must still be inside the house. “I need someone to tell me how to play this.”

Owen’s order comes without any hesitation. “Get out of there.” 

“Can’t. He’s got the gun pointed at TK. He’s blocking his exit.” 

Carlos thinks the ground might fall out from under him. His chest squeezes, everything around him fading out as he tunes into the sound of his own racing heart pounding in his ears. “Let me go in,” he says quickly. 

Owen shakes his head. “Building’s too unstable. I don’t even want them in there for a second longer than they need to be.”

“Captain Strand,” Carlos begins, but Owen just shakes his head.

“TK,” he says into his radio. 

“He shut it off,” Judd says. 

Carlos is going to kill him. If TK makes it out alive, Carlos is going to absolutely kill him. His heart pounds, palms sweating as he waits for someone to make a decision. He hears Owen swear beneath his breath, which doesn’t make him feel any better. His stomach is tying itself in knots, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second. 

“I’ll come in, then,” Owen says. Carlos opens his mouth to object, to plead his case as to why he should be the one going in, when the radio on Owen’s shoulder crackles. 

“No,” Judd’s reply comes instantly. “TK’s got this. I trust him. And I’m not leaving him behind. Just have PD ready to take this guy when we come out.” 

“Standing by. Get out of there as soon as you can,” Owen says. “And Judd. Be safe.” 

Paul comes up beside Carlos, clapping him on the shoulder. “Kid’s got nine lives,” he says. “He’ll make it out.” 

Carlos tries and fails to get words to come out of his mouth, he’s too shook up. So he just nods, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously as he stares at the doors to the building. It’s the longest two minutes of his life, waiting in silence with bated breath for movement of any kind. 

His legs nearly give out beneath him when a figure appears behind the cloud of smoke billowing from the open doors. Judd walks through the door, guiding an older man with his hands in the air. _TK_ , Carlos thinks. _TK._ _Where’s TK?_

He’s only a few steps behind Judd, and the sight of his helmet-clad head is all it takes for Carlos to start breathing again. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and immediately snaps back into his body, jogging across the lawn. 

He glances up from where he’s cuffing the offender to see TK coming over, pulling his mask and helmet off. He’s drenched in sweat, soot clinging to his skin, and he looks absolutely wrecked. 

“I think you guys’ll want this,” he says with that gorgeous half-smile of his, gun in his outstretched hand. Carlos just stands there, drinking in the sight of him. Luckily, his partner steps forward and takes the gun from him, moving to secure it. Carlos pulls his eyes from TK long enough to get the offender in the back of his squad car. 

He slams the car door shut and turns to face TK. He wants to rip him a new one for shutting off his radio, wants to demand to know why he thought cutting off his only communication to the people who could help him was a wise choice. He wants to storm off and fume for a little while and maybe cry. He wants to back him up against the ladder truck and kiss him senseless, wants to get his hands on him and breathe him in and just _have_ him. 

But he’s working, and so’s TK, and he knows he can’t. Not here, not now. So instead, he asks “You okay?”

TK says nothing, just tugs on Carlos’s wrist, leads him over behind another station’s truck, where there’s no one around. Even though he knows he has to get the offender back and booked so they can start looking into what happened, knows his partner is waiting for him, knows he doesn’t really have a minute to spare, Carlos’ll be damned if he doesn’t follow him.

And damn, is he glad he did. TK pushes Carlos up against the truck, kissing him without so much as a warning. Carlos’s breath catches, his body turning to liquid beneath TK’s touch. He’s got Carlos’s face in his hands, holding him firm, steady, as he drags his teeth across his bottom lip. 

“I heard you tried to come inside,” is all TK says when they part. 

“I heard you turned your radio off,” Carlos counters. 

“Thanks for not running into a flashover.”

“Thanks for not getting shot in the face.” 

“Love you,” TK says, corners of his mouth tugging up in a half-smile. “I’ll see you at home. Try to stay away from burning buildings, yeah? That’s my job.” 

Carlos rolls his eyes, returning TK’s grin. “You’re one to talk, Mr. Negotiating With a Gunman.”

“You’re not going to tell me you love me?” TK teases. “After I almost just died in there?” 

“Like you don’t already know,” Carlos replies. TK laughs, shaking his head as he moves to head back to his team. Carlos reaches out, grabs TK’s arm and pulls him back. “Love you, baby,” he whispers into the space between their lips before kissing him one last time. “Be safe.”

TK is called over to one of the ambulances to get looked at, and Carlos drives the offender back to the station to book him. Which, he’d be lying if he said closing the cell door on this guy didn’t bring him just a little bit of satisfaction. 

By the time his shift ends, he’s practically buzzing, eager to see TK. Sure, he got a moment with him after it all went down today, but it was rushed and heated and semi-public and just _not enough_. Since then, he’s learned that the man set fire to the building and then tried to commit suicide, turning the gun on TK when he tried to pull him out of the upstairs blaze. TK apparently tried talking him down, and when that didn’t work, Judd dropped an oxygen tank on the ground in the hallway to startle the man long enough for TK to lunge for the gun. There were so many points at which things could have gone so terribly wrong, and not a single one of them is lost on Carlos. All he wants is to be with TK, to touch him, to breath in his scent, to have him in his arms where he’s safe and loved and not staring down the barrel of an arsonist’s gun.

He drives straight home, heart pounding in anticipation when he sees TK’s car parked out front. 

He lets himself in, the door closing behind him as TK steps out into the living room. “Hey,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I just–”

Carlos says nothing, just closes the distance between them, taking TK’s face in his hands. TK’s lips are soft beneath his, curling into a smile as he snakes a hand up behind Carlos’s neck. He drags his teeth along Carlos’s bottom lip, nipping at the end, just to hear his soft gasp turn filthy when he licks into his mouth.

“You scared me today,” Carlos says. He’s always been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, though of the two of them, TK would certainly take that crown. But still, he was scared – absolutely terrified– watching that building burn today, knowing TK was inside of it with a gunman and no clear path out. And now that he’s here, in front of him, cleaned up and grinning and _safe,_ Carlos doesn't want to ever let him go.

“Didn’t mean to,” TK replies, spreading his legs so Carlos can step between them, their thighs slotting together as he deepens the kiss. 

“You turned your radio off,” Carlos says between hurried kisses. Then, because it’s so ridiculous it bears repeating, “You turned. Your radio. Off.” 

“Needed him to trust me,” TK replies, breath coming in ragged puffs. He hikes Carlos’s shirt up by the hem, running his hands across the toned muscle of his hips and back and relishing in the sear of Carlos’s skin against his fingertips. “You would’ve done the same.”

“Doesn’t mean I hated it any less.”

TK smirks against Carlos’s mouth, fingers tightening their grip on his waist and pulling him even closer. “Sorry,” he says, unrepentant as he may be. 

He leans back just enough to meet TK’s eyes with his. “Don’t ever,” he breathes. “Do that again.”

“I mean, if this is what it gets me,” TK grins against Carlos’s lips. “Then no promises.”

Carlos steps forward, their hips smacking together as TK’s back hits the wall. 

TK groans, tipping his head back to give Carlos full access to his throat. Carlos takes the hint immediately, pressing a kiss to the hinge of his jaw, the pulse point on the side of his neck, the warm skin in the hollow of his shoulder. His hands travel south, eliciting a sharp gasp from TK as his fingers land on his hips. 

“Get this off,” Carlos instructs, tugging at the hem of TK’s shirt. TK peels it off in an instant, Carlos lifting his arms long enough for TK to tug his off, too, and then they’re stumbling down the hallway. 

TK sheds his pants somewhere along the way, Carlos’s coming off the second they get into the bedroom. 

And then TK falls back against the mattress, coming up to rest on an elbow as he looks up at Carlos with lust-blown pupils and kiss-swollen lips. When he all but growls, “Come here,” all the blood in Carlos’s body rushes south. 

And Carlos? Well, Carlos doesn’t have to be told twice. 

He’s on TK in a matter of seconds, straddling his lap as his fingers dig into TK’s waist. TK grins when Carlos’s lips find his, nips at his bottom lip as Carlos’s fingers dip below the elastic band of his tight black briefs, tugging down and freeing his cock. 

He tosses their underwear to the floor, reaching for the nightstand as TK scoots back, spreading his legs. He can’t help but take his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly as he watches the muscles in Carlos’s back flex as he digs around for a condom and lube.

“Easy, tiger,” Carlos chides, tossing the condom onto the bed and rubbing some lube between his palms to warm it before slicking up his fingers. 

Even when they’re dying to get their hands on each other, Carlos is always thinking of TK, always doing right by him, making sure he’s taken care of. The realization makes TK’s chest squeeze, and he leans up and wraps a hand around Carlos’s neck, tugging him down so their lips can meet in a kiss. “I really fucking love you,” he says against Carlos’s lips.

Carlos grins, nipping at TK’s bottom lip. “I love you, too.” He presses a kiss to TK’s jaw as he slips one finger in, and TK’s eyes screw shut, pleasure coursing through him. No matter how many times they do this, TK still feels electricity running through his veins, his skin buzzing beneath Carlos’s touch.

His breath hitches in his throat, a hand coming up to the back of Carlos’s head, fingers knotting in his hair. “Please,” he begs, rolling his hips. When Carlos adds a second finger, TK’s a babbling mess, swearing and panting and begging for more, saying God’s name so many times the room might be consecrated. 

The slow burn of the third finger, the sparks behind his eyelids as Carlos finds his prostate, might just send TK over the edge – and then there’s Carlos nipping at his earlobe, husky voice in his ear. “You think you can come on my fingers?” 

TK nods, Carlos’s word having stolen the air out of his lungs. “God, yes,” he manages to get out. 

“C’mon, baby,” Carlos murmurs, his voice thick with lust. 

He’s met with a soft gasp from TK as he moves his hips to meet each thrust of Carlos’s fingers. He can feel the heat pooling, senses his muscles beginning to tense. God, he’s so close. Then Carlos whispers, “God, you’re perfect,” and leans down, their lips meeting in an open-mouthed kiss as he crooks his fingers one last time. And TK’s a fucking goner. 

He comes with a gasp, untouched, his fingers digging into Carlos’s back so hard he nearly draws blood as he rides out his orgasm. When Carlos slides his fingers out and dips his head, licking up the come splattered across TK’s bare chest while looking up at him through his long lashes, TK swears he died in that apartment building today and has gone to heaven – it’s the only explanation. 

“Fuck me,” TK breathes, dick already on its way to becoming hard again – because, really, how could it not be, after watching Carlos just lick him clean without a second’s hesitation? “Please. I need it.” 

Carlos will never get tired of seeing TK like this, wrecked and begging. TK tears open the condom packet with his teeth, and Carlos has to press the heel of his hand into the base of his dick to keep from coming right then and there. He slicks himself up as TK brings his hands up above his head, giving himself over entirely to Carlos. 

“Fuck,” Carlos murmurs. “Look at you.” 

“Want you. So bad,” TK pants. Carlos kisses him as he presses inside, feeling TK’s lips curl up in a smile as he bottoms out. He rocks his hips experimentally, a wave of pleasure overtaking him. 

When he starts to move, TK opens his legs a little more, his grip on Carlos’s hair tightening as he settles into a rhythm. He tugs, sending sparks flying behind Carlos’s eyelids as he bites back a moan. 

“Baby,” TK whines. “Please.” 

“What do you need?” Carlos asks breathlessly. “Tell me.” 

TK sounds absolutely ruined, completely wrecked, when he speaks. “Harder.” 

Carlos snaps his hips so fast the headboard smacks against the wall. He’s rewarded with a bitten-off moan, so he does it again. And again. TK’s fingers are clawing up his back, scrambling for purchase and most definitely leaving marks as Carlos pounds him into the mattress. Carlos wants to bottle the tiny, punched-out noises TK’s making and keep them forever, wants to drink in every inch of him he possibly can. 

“I’m gonna come,” TK pants. “Carlos–” 

Carlos hooks one of TK’s knees over his shoulder, switching up the angle and rolling his hips, and the moan that escapes TK’s lips is so loud and so filthy Carlos has never been more thankful their closest neighbors are a full acre away. God bless Texas. 

“Touch yourself,” he whispers. TK does, biting down on his bottom lip as he wraps his fingers around himself, thumbs at the bead of precome on the head of his dick. He strokes himself once, twice, his head tipping back as the ecstasy overtakes him. Their lips meet just as Carlos snaps his hips again, TK whimpering into his mouth as he comes. 

Carlos is right behind him, thrusting once more before blinding white flashes behind his eyes, his body stilling as he clutches onto TK, who kisses him through it. 

Later, once they’ve cleaned up and gone for rounds two and three in the shower, Carlos climbs beneath the blankets and drapes an arm over TK’s waist, pulling him close to his chest. “I really fucking love you,” Carlos murmurs, stealing TK’s line from earlier. 

TK grins, closing his eyes. “Copycat.” 

“Mmm. You love me.”

“So much,” TK says. 

As Carlos presses a kiss to the back of his neck, TK takes a long, deep breath. He thinks back to those first few weeks in Austin, about that first call they were on together, that night in the bar, the days that followed. He thinks about how it felt like his world was ending the night he wound up at Carlos’ desk at the station with an ice pack on his lip. But most of all, he thinks about how funny it is that now, it feels like his world couldn’t keep spinning without Carlos. 

As sleep overtakes him, he can’t keep the smile off his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :) let me know what you think!


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